


Sentakushi

by jarethsdragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Asexual, Genji and Hanzo talking mostly, Yakuza Genji Shimada, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada, sorry for no sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 05:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: God, Hanzo was so beautiful.  Genji couldn’t get over that.  The younger brother knew Hanzo better than anyone else.  He wanted to help more than anything else.  He wanted to make things better.





	Sentakushi

“God, you’re beautiful,” Genji whispered reverently.

Hanzo only nodded as he slid into the elaborately embroidered, knee-length overcoat. His silver and sapphire cuff links were adjusted slightly so that they were precisely parallel along his thick wrist. He ran his fingers along the edges of the royal blue silk tie at his throat with the matching sapphire tie pin placed exactly in the middle. His shirt was beautifully creased and starched stiff. He stared at himself in the large mirror solemnly, making sure that even his long hair was smooth and straight.

He paused to look at his brother’s reflection off to one side. Genji was lolling in his oxblood armchair, disarmingly casual in only a worn-thin pair of sweatpants and bare feet. His brother’s green tattoo twisted along his bare right arm—almost a mirror of his own on his left.

Genji stood up and crept behind his older brother. Their reflections seemed mismatched—a conservative and muscular man with solemn features and every hair in place with a taller, lanky one in only a pair of sweatpants and with wild green hair that stuck out in every direction. It was like in-yo—opposites with bits of each other and inseparable. He leaned closer, breathing deep over his brother’s shoulder blades.

“Even your hair smells good, anija,” Genji murmured.

Hanzo looked at his reflection solemnly. “It will do.” He looked at his brother’s face. “I suppose that Father will not have anything to complain about.”

Genji backed up a step with a sad, knowing smile. “I know it...it’s tough. He’s an old man who wants grandchildren.”

Hanzo said nothing, not even nodding. “I suppose.”

Genji cocked a sarcastic smile. “I can come through, if you like. Won’t take me a moment to get dressed and I’m sure that I can find some inappropriate girls to come with me.”

Hanzo shook his head stiffly. “Father would only get enraged at you.”

Genji flushed and smiled. “If he’s gonna get mad anyway, who cares?” Hanzo stared at himself in the mirror blankly, dispassionately. “Maybe it will take some heat off of you, huh?” Hanzo said nothing. “So who does he have for tonight?”

Hanzo only shrugged, making a minute adjustment to the knot in his tie. “He has invited the Sato family to join us.”

Genji flopped down on the leather chair again. “So that’s why I wasn’t invited.” He looked at his hands that were littered with little marks and bruises from sparring and training earlier that day. “But aren’t there two Sato daughters?”

“Twins—Kiyomi and Harumi,” Hanzo replied woodenly. “Then a eight year old girl named Hana.”

“If I remember, the twins are pretty—maybe even beautiful,” Genji mused, watching as Hanzo carefully pulled out a drawer of costly wristwatches. Hanzo took out a cloth and wiped a watch face before picking the watch up and sliding it on. “You could do worse.”

Hanzo shrugged as he latched the watch around his wrist. “I suppose, but you and I both know what would happen then.”

Genji made a rude face in the mirror—sticking out his tongue at their reflections. “It’s...it’s not something to...to be ashamed of.”

Hanzo stared at him hollowly—his eyes distant and lifeless. “Father would never forgive me.”

“For crying out loud, this is not the sixteenth century!” Genji moaned. “You should not have to be ashamed of who you are!”

Hanzo only shrugged as he slid the drawer of watches back into its place. “Father is ashamed.” He offered a weary, broken half-smile to Genji. “That is what—.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Genji interrupted, crossing his arms. “If you don’t dig girls—then he shouldn’t be trying to force you into it.”

“As you said, Father is old-fashioned,” Hanzo replied. “And since he wants pure Shimada heirs, then I have to provide them.”

Genji nodded sadly. “Only pure Shimada heirs can control the dragons.”

“Which means that I must do this,” Hanzo said woodenly.

Genji howled in response and hissed, “But if you aren’t...aren’t able to...well, be with a girl—.”

Hanzo growled slightly, his cheeks pink with a bit of anger. “I cannot do that.” He picked up a pair of leather gloves out of another drawer. “You understand that better than anyone.”

Genji growled in return, his face scowling. “But I can do it instead.” He puffed out an irritated breath. “It’s not like I’m less of a Shimada than you.”

Hanzo shrugged as he carefully set the gloves on top of a dresser and adjusted a gold ring on his right hand. “Father wants a pure bloodline—eldest son to eldest son—just like it has been for generations.” He shrugged. “We have known this was coming ever since he gave us that embarrassing talk after school. We can hardly complain about it now.”

Genji paced angrily. “But...but you should not have to hide.” His hands flicked through his wild hair. “We’ve tried—we really have tried. You have taken out every girl he has drug through Hanamura. You even tried going out with a guy twice.”

“And none of them appealed to me,” Hanzo replied softly. “So, I think it is perhaps something with me—.”

“The term is ‘asexual’.” Genji grunted angrily, “Remember? We learned about it in college health ed?”

“And it is me. The problem is me,” Hanzo said evenly, sliding open a drawer to pick up a satiny handkerchief that matched his tie. “So therefore—.”

“Therefore?” Genji scowled at the blue handkerchief with the coiling silver embroidery on it. “Han—you’re going to kill yourself.”

That did cause his old brother to laugh shortly. “Kill myself? According to the news, my...ahh...celibacy gives me a better chance to live to old age disease free.”

“No—not that,” Genji scowled, watching as his brother folded and unfolded the cloth. “All the quacks that Father has drug you to. All the little pills and potions and stuff are going to kill you.”

After another impatient moment, Genji snatched up the handkerchief and folded it crisply himself. “You don’t need it! None of it.” He carefully pushed a fingertip into Hanzo’s coat pocket and slid the cloth inside. “You don’t have erectile disfunction. You don’t have poor circulation or unbalanced chi or any of it.”

“It makes Father feel like things are under control,” Hanzo muttered as Genji plucked fretfully at the handkerchief in his chest pocket to make the points and edges even. “He wants to believe that it is a matter of finding a girl that I like.”

“Asexual!” Genji hissed. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Father is ashamed.” Hanzo looked blankly at his brother. “That is why I am going out with him tonight—.”

“He is trying to prove that you are something you are not,” Genji snapped angrily as he got the blue cloth perfect. “He has deluded himself that you are going to fall head-over-heels and that grandchildren are forthcoming. And guess what? No one cares! As long as there is a Shimada heir, then it doesn’t matter.” Genji paced the room again. “Literally, no one cares these days.”

Hanzo shrugged, and began pulling on his gloves. “Father cares.”

“And Father has you popping pills and drinking crap and that’s going to kill you!” Genji puffed out a breath as he looked at Hanzo. “Look...do you want my opinion?”

Hanzo cross his arms slightly. “I suppose that I will get it whether I want it or not.”

“Look, anija,” Genji said. “How about this? Let me arrange things—a dark room and a drunk girl. Get her drunk enough and she won’t know it’s me in the room with her. She’s preggers. Father’s happy. And I don’t say anything—ever.” Genji’s eyes sparkled with desperation. “I swear I won’t.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, caught somewhere between appreciating what Genji was offering and faintly disgusted at the blatant disregard for the anonymous woman they were discussing. “And Father won’t notice that you are gone? Won’t get suspicious that she’s wildly drunk?”

“Nah,” Genji smirked. “I’m just guarding your door.” He winked mischievously. “He’ll be so relieved you’re actually alone with a girl that he won’t worry about it. Especially if she gets pregnant.”

“He will only be disgusted at how often I let her get that drunk,” Hanzo sighed.

Genji scratched his jawline thoughtfully. “What about this? Get together with one of those society princesses. Flatter her that you want her to stay beautiful and that you want to use a surrogate.” He shrugged. “If you pick one of the right ones, she’ll be so busy shopping and entertaining that she won’t care.”

Hanzo’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “She will not care that I do not sleep with her?”

Genji grinned wickedly. “Nah...she’ll be too busy shopping and stuff. For some of them, just you walking next to them and occasionally getting some new jewelry will be enough.”

Hanzo cocked his head. He wasn’t willing to admit he was tempted—sorely tempted. “That sounds...cold.”

Genji groaned and dropped his forehead into his hand. “So choose some mouse who is too afraid—or too in debt—to say anything. She’ll be grateful—especially if you choose a spinster.” He looked at his older brother. “Then just have to work nights—and that’s really not hard in this line of work.”

Hanzo smirked in wry amusement. “I suppose not.”

“Hey—you could even blame her.” The older man looked quizzically at his younger brother. “This stupidity with being super thin—it makes them fragile and can make them infertile. See? It all works out.”

Hanzo sighed. “You know better than that.” He shrugged. “It works right up until Father wants me to discard her for a more fertile woman.” He cracked an actual, sarcastic smile. “Or until he puts her on drugs and whatnot.”

Genji growled for a moment. He nodded slowly, his eyes closed. Their father would do either—or both—of those things. “So we go for the midnight switch.”

Hanzo laughed softly. “Your persistence is always amazing to me.”

Genji shook his head. “Look...maybe we could even find a girl who is as uninterested as you are. There are asexual girls, you know.” Genji’s eyes sparkled for a moment. “I can find one—I know I can.”

“That will not fool anyone,” Hanzo sighed.

“Fine—nix that idea.” Genji pulled out a drawer fill with small pistols and their clips. Every weapon gleamed with precise and exacting care. Every gun was as perfectly in order as the ties, the watches, the handkerchiefs. “What about a quick shot?”

“What?”

Genji picked up a gun and examined the clip for it, making sure the clip was fully loaded before sliding it into the weapon with a loud metallic clap. “A hit of a drug and she’s out, right?” Hanzo waited patiently. “A quick squirt between her legs and she’s good. We can even use like valerian and ashwagandha if we need to be all natural.” Genji flushed. “I’ll even...err...fill—.”

“Just no,” Hanzo sighed. “Do not even finish that thought.” He took the loaded weapon and tucked it into the shoulder holster under his suit vest. “That would be...rape, Genji.”

The younger man shrugged with a frustrated groan. “I’ll do whatever will help, anija.”

Hanzo puffed out a breath and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I appreciate what you are trying to do, otouto.”

“This is not something wrong with you,” Genji insisted as he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder in camaraderie. “It just isn’t!” His eyes narrowed impatiently. “And I don’t care about some anonymous female that he’s going to force onto you—I care about you!”

Hanzo smiled, feeling a faint warmth. His brother was a good man to have at his side—loyal, disciplined and persistent. “I know, Genji. I appreciate it.”

Genji nodded with a smile. “Look—give me ten minutes.” Hanzo cocked his head curiously. “I can call up a girl or two and parade through. That will make Father properly enraged at me and you can get off his radar for tonight.”

“It will only start up again tomorrow,” Hanzo warned.

“Yeah, but you’ll have tonight,” Genji puffed out. “Why can’t you just adopt a bastard of mine? It will be yours and a pure Shimada and everyone’s happy.”

“No,” Hanzo sighed woodenly. “The first thing that Father will do is demand DNA testing.”

“Well, I am really fucking tired of this whole damn charade,” Genji pouted. “I am tired of you being drug through all these things. I’m tired of you swallowing pills and poisons to make him happy. I’m tired of never being a ‘real Shimada’ and I really want to settle down.”

“You?” Hanzo snorted as he examined his reflection again. “Ready to settle down?”

“Well...,” Genji blushed. “I’m going out and getting a new girl every night so that Father is hacked at me, rather than trying to kill you.” The younger man walked down the hallway with his brother, dropping his voice to a hushed whisper. “I found a nice girl—a doctor from Switzerland—that I’ve been talking to online. She’s amazing—but I don’t want to bring her around.”

“Father would have apoplexy,” Hanzo predicted grimly, lowering his voice. Gossip among the servants was a serious problem. “He would probably never forgive you.”

“Yeah. He’d kill her outright.” Genji slumped, his voice still low—even in the empty hallway. “So how about I grab some girls and we go out and Father gets upset at me.” He glanced at his solemn faced brother. “I even got a few who owed us. Not much—not enough that anyone would care, but enough that they were struggling. So, I forgive their little debts and they go out with me—.”

“And become a target for his righteous wrath,” Hanzo interrupted softly. He felt numb. Sojiro was unforgiving of what he viewed as his younger son’s immoral and promiscuous lifestyle. “He will not excuse your little escapades forever.”

“But the point is you get to come home and he isn’t pouring pills down your throat or shoving women at you all night.” Genji flicked his hands through his green hair. His lower voice dropped into a hiss. “You get to live, Han!”

Hanzo paused, taking in a deep breath and looked at nothing. “I...see.”

Genji growled, “That is what I care about, anija! I don’t give a damn about Father. I don’t give a damn about some bitch whose sole purpose is to drop a baby in his lap. And I don’t give a damn about a whore’s reputation or debts when I’m trying to defend you.”

Pausing in the hallway, Hanzo gestured towards an empty room and both men went into its shadowy depths, closing the door behind them. “I...really appreciate this Genji—.”

“I’m glad.” Genji gave him a shadowed smile. “So—?”

“But...this is not a permanent solution.” Hanzo could not see the other man, but he could feel his warm, loyal presence nonetheless. “Eventually, it will need to end. I will need to take a wife, sooner or later. She will need to get pregnant and have my child.”

“And you’re talking about rape, now.”

Hanzo straightened proudly. “I would hardly take her against her will.” He paused. “I will respect her wishes.”

“Never said you would,” Genji muttered. “But it would be raping you.” Hanzo let out a soft sound. “Forcing you to have sex with anyone when you are simply not interested in is still rape.”

“It is my duty.”

“No—do not ask me to support that kind of...crap, Hanzo. It’s shit, anija.” Genji didn’t move, but his very energy in the dark room was restless. “And I don’t care what Father thinks. You are not somehow defective or whatever shit he tells himself.” Genji took in a shuddering breath. “And I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get us out of this mess.”

Hanzo was glad that the dark hid his expression. His throat felt tight and his heart ached at Genji’s generosity. “Most of the things you are suggesting—they are impossible. It is...hard enough to go through these meetings, but I will not ask you to do those things.” He took a deep breath, ignoring the slight wetness in the corners of his eyes. “Do not dishonor yourself like that.”

“I don’t care about honor! About duty! About any of that crap!” Genji growled. “None of those things make you richer or fill your belly or warm you on a cold night.” He shook his head wildly. “The world doesn’t work like that. Maybe it did once—when samurais were wearing swords and slicing heads off—but it doesn’t work now.”

“Discipline and duty are hardly things to abandon,” Hanzo sighed patiently. “They are not worthless stones.”

“They are not pearls either,” Genji snorted.

“And Father would kill you,” Hanzo whispered. “He would be practically forced to do it.” Genji snorted in the darkness. “You would have shamed him by trying to manipulate my future wife and he would kill you.”

“He wouldn’t—would he?” Genji’s voice was suddenly uncertain. “I mean...that’s just me trying to help and it wouldn’t go outside the estate.”

“Or he would want me to kill you,” Hanzo continued implacably. “If anyone thought that you had done anything to impregnate my wife, you would disgrace me. If you drugged her or tried to get her drunk, you would dishonor me and he would demand that I regain my honor by killing you. And your blood would still be wet on my hands before he would demand that my wife die for her infidelity.”

“But...but you wouldn’t.” Genji’s voice sounded young and high in the darkness. “You...you know I’d be doing it to help you. You...you wouldn’t kill me—not for that.”

Hanzo paused, taking a deep breath. “It would be either me...or the first hired gun he could find.” He felt that choking feeling in his throat again. “And that hired gun—however many that got sent after you—would not be gentle with you.” Genji let out a soft, fearful sound. “You know that it would be terrible. You are the most amazing ninja our clan has ever produced, but even you couldn’t dodge that many bullets.”

“I...I need to try!” Genji whimpered sadly. “I need to try to save my brother.” Hanzo smiled sadly, feeling his brother reaching out for him and missing him by mere inches. “I need to at least try! B-b-because my anija—he...he’s going to be the b-b-best oyabun...in like...e-e-ever.” Genji let out a hoarse cry. “A-a-and he’s...he’s just right just l-l-like he is!”

“I have to do my duty,” Hanzo whispered.

“N-n-no!” Genji cried out softly.

“I have to do my duty,” Hanzo insisted. “Or I will be dishonoring our father, our clan.” Hanzo turned towards the door. “Please, Genji. Listen to me—I have to do this. I do not have to enjoy it, nor do I have to...desire it. But I do have to do it. I have to do my duty with honor.”

Genji flinched in the dark. Even though he knew that his older brother couldn’t see him, he felt his face flaming and his heart in his chest ache. “So...is that your...f-f-final answer?”

“It has to be,” Hanzo said fatalistically. He slid the door open. “I will...wish you a good night, otouto.” He stood, a flawless silhouette in the doorway. “Do not do anything...rash. Please—Genji—please do not do anything rash. I would hate for anything to happen to you.”

Genji watched as his brother slid perfectly out and closed the door behind him. He wiped his tears off his cheeks. “I’m g-g-g-going t-t-to protect you, anija! It...doesn’t matter what it takes!” He growled as tears dripped down his face and hit his bare chest. “No matter what! You are a perfect man just like you are! It doesn’t matter if you are asexual or not—you are perfect the way you are.”

Genji took in a steadying breath and slid out the door. His mind buzzed as he planned how to accomplish his goal. The nameless woman who was his quarry did not matter. Their Father did not matter. The clan did not matter. Hanzo mattered—and that was all.

He slipped down the hallway to his room to begin his preparations. This would be a months long affair, but preparation was key. There was no telling when Hanzo would be yoked to some female whether he wanted to be or not. Genji brought out all of his books—including the pharmacology book he had stolen from a pretty co-ed at college—and began to make his plans. It didn’t matter, really.... What happened to him was his own destiny, his own karma. If he died int his, he died. As long as Hanzo was safe, he would die a happy man.

Genji stared at the small photo he had in a plain bamboo frame on his table. He was smirking in a loose University of Tokyo t-shirt and some ripped jeans, smiling at the camera. Hanzo was wearing a gray, pinstripe suit with a golden tie, handkerchief and a gold cloth around his hair like he had been born to wear it. His anija’s eyes were cool and calm and fill with duty and honor as he stared into the lens. Hanzo did have a bit of a smirk, but he had been already neck deep in the midnight world of the yakuza clan and it made him appear older still even before the slight wings of gray appeared at his temples.

That was what Genji was protecting—that little half smile, the slight sparkle in his eyes. Genji wanted to keep that forever. Life in the clan killed men young—everyone knew that. Without Hanzo, Genji knew he would just walk out of Hanamura one night and never return. But if he wasn’t here, then the clan would rip his brother apart like dogs with a steak. Hanzo wouldn’t last a day alone here—he would be drugged out of his mind with who knew what, trapped with a woman he didn’t want, forced to do the unthinkable. How quickly would he die inside as piece by piece of his soul was killed?

Genji looked at his photo again. God, his brother was beautiful.


End file.
